


No Consolation Prize

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Series: SPN Masquerade Fills [16]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Banter, Conquest, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Oral Sex, SPN Masquerade Kink Meme, Soldiers, villagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23655445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: Jared and his forces have been trying unsuccessfully to conquer the city for months. After another failure leaves the notorious warlord in a foul mood, his second in command decides he knows exactly what Jared needs to take some of the pressure off.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Series: SPN Masquerade Fills [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/329416
Comments: 12
Kudos: 120





	No Consolation Prize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashtraythief](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/gifts).



> Written for the Spring 2020 SPN Masquerade for the prompt: _Warlord Jared is in a bad mood. They've been besieging the city for months and he just wants to win this battle. His second in command Chad decides Jared needs some cheering up. He brings hapless villager Jensen to Jared's tent. Jared's usually not a fan of terrorizing the country folk, but Jensen's just too pretty to let go again._. You can find the original fill [here](https://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/10986.html?thread=4207594#t4207594).

Jared stands at the entrance to his war tent and listens to his second in command lament the lack of progress on their current siege.

“The fortifications are too strong,” Chad complains for the third time. “Our weapons can’t penetrate the city walls.”

“I want good news, Chad,” Jared says, watching the torches flicker throughout the camp. “Tell me what we’re doing _right_.”

Chad hesitates. That’s never a good sign. “I suppose...we’ve been relatively successful at cutting off their supply lines, and they can’t get food from the farms and villages outside the walls.”

Jared clenches his jaw. His head is pounding from the incompetence surrounding him. “I don’t want them to _starve_. I want them to surrender and agree to live under my protection!”

“Well, if they starve, they’re more likely to surrender,” Chad mutters cynically.

The camp is loud and raucous; there’s too much revelry happening for a day on which so little has been achieved. Jared, for one, doesn’t feel like celebrating such an impotent campaign, though his men deserve whatever comforts they can find. Most of those _comforts_ have come from the small village situated just to the west of the city, beyond the protection of its walls. It’s filled with merchants, farmers, and people with no rank or fortune: the ones left to the mercy of Jared’s forces by those now cowering inside the city.

“I know you thought this siege would be swift,” Chad is saying, “but don’t worry, we’ll get through eventually.”

Jared takes a steadying breath and reminds himself that Chad earned his position because of his prowess in battle, not for his ability to reassure his commander.

Chad enthusiastically punches the air. “We’ll bring that gate down tomorrow!”

“That’s enough, Chad.”

His second remains at his side, doing nothing to alleviate the headache forming behind Jared’s eyes. There’s a worrying chill in the air; Jared draws his fur cloak tighter around his shoulders. Winter is closing in, and Jared never expected to still be here past the early fall.

“Maybe there’s a way to cheer you up,” Chad suggests. Jared really wishes he’d go off and get drunk like the rest of his men. At least then he’d be left to suffer in peace. “I could go to the village, pick up a little something for you…”

A good number of the villagers are already milling around the encampment, selling food and ale or their own company. Jared would never deny the workers and farmers the chance to make some coin while the city shuts them out. He might be a fearsome warlord (or so Chad tells him), but he has no quarrel with the poor. Jared’s own family had very little, and when he was old enough to fight back, he took what he wanted from violent, terrible men and started to build his own army.

“That won’t be necessary,” Jared replies, though the thought of company is tempting. “I’m tired, and I need to plan our next assault.”

“Suit yourself.” Chad turns to go. There’s an odd grin on his face that Jared distrusts, but his second disappears around the side of the tent before he can warn Chad not to do anything ridiculous.

As if a warning has ever made a difference.

Sighing, Jared steps into his spacious tent and reaches for the wine. Being the leader of his people has its perks. Someone left a platter of meat and bread on the table and lit the oil lamps. It’s slightly warmer inside the tent, and Jared eyes the wide pallet covered in furs and blankets longingly. Sleep is going to have to wait until he comes up with a new plan. 

He’s finished one mug of wine, no new strategies as of yet, when he hears a commotion at the flap of his tent. Setting the wine aside, Jared listens to the voices outside.

“Let go of my arm!”

“Stop resisting! I’m bringing you to my Lord—”

“You haven’t _brought me_ anywhere, Chad. I was already on my way.”

“Oh, well in that case…”

The flap opens and a man is shoved through. Jared catches a glimpse of Chad’s embellished armor before he’s gone, leaving Jared staring at a rumpled and thoroughly annoyed villager, one whose face has become quite familiar.

“That man is a menace,” Jensen spits. “If he touches me again, I’ll throw him into a pile of cow shit.”

Jared smiles for the first time all day. “I’d like to see that.”

He takes in Jensen’s appearance as the man stands there fuming and likely devising alternate punishments for Chad. Jensen is strong and capable from years of working his family’s farm, yet he’s shorter and leaner than Jared’s battle-honed form. With green eyes, fair hair, and freckled skin, Jensen straddles the line between pretty and ruggedly handsome. He first laid eyes on Jensen in the village where, at the time, he was cursing out two of Jared’s men for harassing his sister. 

Jared wanted him immediately, however, he had a siege to plan. Chad urged Jared to simply _take_ what he wanted, as some of the men did, but that wasn’t Jared’s way. He either paid or it came willingly. In Jensen’s case, it was a combination of the two.

Jensen is staring at him now, frowning. “Chad mentioned you were in a foul mood. Killing not go well today?”

“Careful.”

“Or what?” Jensen laughs. “You’ll kill me if I step out of line? Then who would bring you honey cakes or suck your cock?”

Jared, who’d been sipping his wine, chokes on the liquid and sputters until he catches his breath. Jensen, the bastard, watches him struggle with a smug smile. The attitude is new—Jared is used to being respected or feared—but he allows it without comment. He supposes if Jensen was a cowering subjugate who shook in his presence, he wouldn’t be so utterly fond of the young man.

“Which is it to be today, then?” Jared asks when he’s regained his voice. They lock eyes for a weighted moment before Jensen pulls a parchment-wrapped package from the sack hanging off his shoulder.

Jared tries not to be disappointed. The honey cakes he brings _are_ exceptionally delicious. In fact, the sweets are the reason they finally met. Jared had gone back to the village and found himself drawn to Jensen’s market stall by the mouth-watering aroma of the cakes he and his sister baked. When he saw it was the same attractive villager who had stood up to his men, Jared offered him a handful of silver to purchase every cake he had that day.

That was the second week of the siege on the city. In the month since, Jared has sampled many of Jensen’s talents, culinary and erotic alike.

“You do look tired,” Jensen tells him, crossing the tent to set his parcel on the table. Jared can smell the sugar and spice on Jensen’s skin; it’s sweeter than the cakes he brought with him.

“Leave the cakes and go if you’re just going to insult me.” Jared cringes at his own petulance. “There are coins in the pouch hanging beside the bed.”

Jensen hums noncommittally and makes his way to the fur covered pallet partially hidden behind a folding screen. He takes a single coin from the pouch and slips it into his own bag. Frustrated, Jared turns back to his wine and maps, still without a single strategy for tomorrow morning. He buries his head in his hands and groans. Even to his own ears, he sounds pathetic.

“Are you planning to sit there and be miserable all night, or are you going to join me?”

Looking up, Jared finds the most wonderful sight laid out before him. Jensen, having shed his clothing, is waiting on his bed with one of Jared’s furs pulled up to his chest, concealing what Jared knows is a delectable body, with skin that already bears dozens of faint marks from his mouth and fingers. It stirs a primal instinct within Jared to claim Jensen and never let him out of his sight. He wants to ravage the young man who is displaying himself so provocatively and prove that he can do at least one thing right today.

“Well? Get over here.” The demand is impatient. Jared’s been staring for too long. He nearly trips over his own feet in his rush to drop the last of his armor and unlace his boots. “Bring the cakes!” Jensen adds before Jared steps away from the table.

Interesting. Jared isn’t going to say no to combining the two things that have brought him any joy over the last two months. Naked and bearing the food, Jared crawls into bed beside Jensen, licking his lips. He doesn’t know which he wants to taste first.

Jensen decides for him. “First, you need to relax. Clear your head.” He takes the sweets from Jared. “Lie back.”

His pride bristles at being handled like a child. He growls and reaches for Jensen, who drops the package on the bed, holding him by the back of the neck and stroking his thumb against Jensen’s jaw.

“Who is the warlord here? I should be the only one issuing commands in this bed.”

Jensen stares back, those perfect lips parted. He’s not cowed by Jared’s little display. “Should I pretend to be a hapless villager, wilting and innocent?” He bites his lip and flutters his eyelashes. “Please don’t hurt me.” His voice is hushed, feigning fear, and his lower lip trembles. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s more like it.” Jared drags him forward into a kiss, aggressive and rough, and Jensen melts into it, his body warm and pliable. He rather likes Jensen this way, all softness and obedience. Then again, his obsession began at a time when Jensen was spitting mad and cursing. Jared’s not sure which mood he finds more entracing.

The illusion lasts for a handful of moments. After that, Jensen is no longer content playing the shy innocent. He slips his tongue into Jared’s mouth, pushing forward with roaming hands. Chest pressed together, Jared feels that Jensen is hard beneath the fur coverings, and Jared himself is rising quickly to the occasion.

“We can play out your naive villager fantasy another time,” Jensen says as he breaks away from Jared’s lips. There’s a formidable gleam in his eyes that would not be out of place during a battle. “Now, _lie down_ and let me suck your cock, dammit.”

Jared might be a fearsome warlord, but he’s not an imbecile. This time, he does exactly what the gorgeous, naked, and very willing man in his bed tells him to do.

He’s had many men and women pay tribute on their knees over the years; no one has ever dedicated themselves to the task like Jensen. He’s not afraid, willing to tease and torment, and his mouth is wet and clever. When Jared tugs at his hair, Jensen moans and sucks harder as if his honor is at stake. The young man is capable of taking Jared’s cock deep into his throat, massaging the underside with his tongue as Jared glides in and out. Jared has no need for more wine, because even the sounds Jensen makes are intoxicating.

How did a farmer come to possess such skills? Was there a young love in his past, or did he enjoy frequent rolls in the hay with other men? Perhaps he was naturally gifted, put on this earth to tantalize frustrated warlords with how ridiculously gorgeous he looks with a cock splitting his lips wide open. Even if Jared never takes the city, the siege brought him to Jensen. Though, if he ever referred to Jensen as a _consolation prize_ out loud, Jensen would definitely take his pretty mouth and irresistable ass back to the village.

Release does wonders for Jared’s fatigue. Jensen swallows his come without complaint, stretching comfortably when Jared lets go of his head. Feeling more at ease than he has in a week, Jared lets Jensen feed him pieces of sweet honey cake between kisses. Jared’s unoccupied hands don’t remain idle for long. He finds Jensen’s cock beneath the blanket, teasing him with soft fur and sure strokes until he spills all over Jared’s fingers.

Seeing Jensen laid out and spent in his bed, the wave of primal need rises in Jared’s chest once more. This one is telling Jared to keep and protect. He covers Jensen with his body, demands the pleasure of his kiss and refuses to relent until they’re both breathing hard.

“I might enjoy playing out your shy virgin fantasy someday,” Jensen admits, winded from the dominant display.

“Next time,” Jared vows, clutching Jensen close to his chest before giving in to his body’s need for rest.

He’s nearly asleep when Jensen starts whispering. “If you conquered the city tomorrow, would you and your men leave as it burned?”

That’s a strange question to hear after such intimate activities, but Jared is feeling generous. “I don’t _burn_ cities, Jensen. Winter is almost upon us. If I took the city, my men and their families could stay through the spring and regain their strength.”

“Even Chad?”

Jared smiles. “I could be persuaded to send Chad back to our lands in the east.”

“But you’d stay?”

“I’ve spent _months_ here, Jensen. Let’s just say this place has grown on me.”

They laugh together quietly. Suddenly, the tent feels much warmer than it did before. Jared closes his eyes and savors his good fortune.

“So, does that mean you’d be interested in hearing about the hidden smuggler’s gate at the far side of the city?”

Jared’s eyes fly open. 

So much for sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not give permission for my stories to be reposted or translated on any other sites.


End file.
